The Night of the Second Day-- epilogue, The Jailer
by RhyannD
Summary: Not much plot, just wasn't *nearly* enough resolution after Kitty shot Etta. This is a small grownup piece. Children, go play somewhere else. Have to blame Singerme for this, she started me on Matt & Kitty...


The shot cracked through the air. Matt braced for the thunderous punch and searing heat, but it did not come. Instead, the small, vile woman in black crumpled in slow motion. She fell to the ground soundlessly, the long gun falling from her hands.

For a moment all the marshal could do was stare at Etta Stone, his brain not quite comprehending what his eyes saw. Sluggishly he turned, finally understanding where the shot came from.

Kitty slumped against the side of the barn, her eyes closed, her jaw clenched, the pilfered revolver still clutched in her hand.

Matt moved to her. As he drew nearer, he saw one tear escape her lashes to slide down her bruised cheek. He approached her cautiously... "Kitty..." he whispered.

She did not open her eyes, in fact, squeezed them shut more tightly. He reached for the pistol and gently pried her fingers off the handle.

At his touch, her knees seemed to buckle. He threw the gun away, and his hands grabbed for her upper arms before she could fall. He pulled her to himself.

But his wrists hit the hard metal of his restraints. With a groan of frustration he could not comfort her properly. His Kitty had saved his life once again.

Letting go of her arms briefly, he lifted his shackled hands over her head. She fell against his chest as if she could melt into him.

"Matt..." Her voice was an anguished whisper.

"I know." The clink of metal accompanied his hands soothing movement against the dirty green silk of her dress. His hand found the back of her head, her hair... He held her as tight to him as he dared without cutting off her breathing.

She didn't know how long they stood that way. Matt was a patient man. But eventually Kitty knew she had to move out of his embrace. She started to pull away, he held her for another long moment, his face buried against the side of her head. Then he reluctantly lifted his cuffed hands from her.

His hand found the side of her face, calloused thumb brushing like a hummingbird's wing over the bruises. "You all right?" His eyes so intent, so focused as they looked down on her.

She had to clear her throat to find her voice. "Yeah... yeah. Let's go home, Cowboy."

OoOo

Matt decided Ben and Sara faced enough punishment already. He left them to bury the rest of their family. He did not arrest Ben. Sara clearly had been coerced against her will, in fear for her own safety. Ben had tried his best to help.

Matt and Kitty did not look back when they left that horrible place. The ride back to Dodge was made mostly in silence. Kitty was grateful for the cover of darkness upon their arrival.

Matt saw her up the back stairs to her rooms, then after a long, intense look, told her he would be back in a bit. She changed out of her ruined gown, and checked in briefly with Sam, asking him and the girls to bring up a hot bath and some extra hot water for when Matt returned.

She was not surprised to hear the familiar, soft knock at the door just a few minutes later. "Come in Doc." She invited with a sigh.

"Kitty." His eyes narrowed at the bruises on her face. "Matt asked me to stop in and check on you."

"I'm fine, Curly." Kitty found her voice betrayed her slightly. Truth be told, she ached everywhere. Her cheek was throbbing, and she wasn't quite sure she could stay awake for a bath.

"You a Doctor now?" Doc bristled. Kitty just sighed and sat on a chair while he fussed over her bruises. "Anywhere else?"

"No." Kitty started to nod, but thought better of it. Etta had worked her over with surprising strength. Her arms hurt from repeated manhandling by the boys, but she had been very lucky.

Doc handed her a small glass jar of ointment. "That'll help that cheek and anywhere else you've got bruises. Put it on after your bath." He squinted at her through his glasses. "You sure there's nothin' else?"

"Yeah, Doc." She mustered a smile for him, and rose, hiding a wince, to escort him out. Right now she wanted a bath, a bed, and her man. Not necessarily in that order.

The bath came first. The hot water felt miraculous. She was barely awake to hear the key in the lock and the familiar footsteps of her marshal. She pictured him hanging his hat, and his gunbelt; pulling off his boots and placing them at the end of the bed.

"Plenty of hot water, Cowboy," she invited.

"Now there's an offer I can't refuse." His voice was infinitely weary. She opened her eyes to watch him strip out of his clothes. The sight of his tall, rangy body never failed to stir her. She sat up slightly in the deep tub, her biggest luxury. He had new bruises. She felt the press of tears in her eyes.

He stepped over behind her. "Need your back scrubbed?" She scooted forward, careful not to splash the water too much, as he climbed in the big tub behind her. He settled, his legs outside hers, her back against his chest, her bottom snugged up against him. They fit together perfectly, her curves against his straight lines, her softness to his hardness.

He brought the pitcher up and began to wash her hair. Her eyes closed at his gentle, intimate touch. She found tears rolling inexplicably down her cheeks and dashed them away before he could notice.

When he was done her hair, she turned, with a little sloshing, hooking her feet behind his back. She soaped up the washcloth and passed it over his shoulders, collarbone, chest... lower...

She brought his raw, bruised writs to her lips and kissed them. His eyes darkened at that, and he dragged her to him, his mouth finally taking hers with hot possession. In one move he lifted her and sheathed himself inside her, his mouth moving to her collarbone, then lower, to first one glorious breast then another.

The buoyancy of the water gave Kitty the advantage in setting the pace, but not for long. Terror and relief were too close to the surface. In moments they came together, explosively.

Kitty collapsed against Matt's chest. When she could speak again, the water was starting to cool. Goosebumps were raising on her shoulders. "I hope you can move, because I don't think I can." His heart had slowed beneath her cheek, sounded almost normal now.

"Mmm..." was the deep rumble beneath her.

Kitty was almost asleep when a shiver wracked through her. That woke Matt up. "Kitty. C'mon." With a groan he stood them both up. He handed her a towel for her hair, and wrapped one around his hips. When he went to dry her with the large bath sheet, he stilled. Dangerously.

It took a minute for Kitty to notice, and then her stomach clenched. "What?" she whispered.

"Doc said you weren't hurt anywhere else." His tone was accusing, and something else...

"I... " She looked at herself. Her cursed fair skin was mottled with bruises. Some from the manhandling, some from being pulled down off the horse... "I'm fine, Cowboy." She deliberately left the bath sheet gaping open, holding it only with one hand. With the other she grabbed Matt's hand and led him to the bedroom. "But if you want, you can kiss them all better."

"Kitty..." His voice held warning.

"Matt..." she mimicked his tone. Then sighed. "Matt, I'm OK. WE are OK. I am too tired to argue with you tonight. I don't know about you, but I haven't slept in two days." She looked at him imploringly.

He let her lead him to the bed. It felt like heaven. He turned on his side and she slid against him, resting her head against his chest, in the nook of his shoulder. His fingers gently combed through her wet hair. "It's going to tangle." He murmured absently.

"I'm too tired. I'll deal with it in the morning." Her palm moved slowly back and forth against his chest, soothing them both.


End file.
